


Time Ticks Down

by pretentious_git



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), KyouHaba - Freeform, M/M, Oh yes, Soulmate AU, but he doesn't die, it's super cliche i know but i have a twist i swear, kyoutani has a dog, oh no, timers on their arms, yahaba has cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11458359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentious_git/pseuds/pretentious_git
Summary: The black timer counts down to when you finally meet your soulmate. The red timer counts down to the moment that you die. Yahaba's in the hospital, stuck with a timer that flicks between colours. At least he'll meet his soulmate just before he dies, right? But what's the point if he doesn't have enough time to spend with him?





	Time Ticks Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm back! And surprisingly, without tsukiyama, haha yes i know. For the past few days i've had this insatiable itch for kyouhaba that just _had_ to be itched. So here you go, my first kyouhaba fic! And it's kind of ish sad. No one dies though I promise. 
> 
> **Important:** So this felt way more like a 'the end' fic rather than a 'beginning' fic, if that makes any sense. There's no highschool-y bickering vibe (i mean, yahaba's in the hospital come on, what's kyoutani gonna do, be a shit to him?) so I suppose i'm just giving a forewarning if they feel OOC? Basically, i hope you like it!

**Time Ticks Down**

Yahaba has an… _issue_.

He’s taking it surprisingly well for someone who his best friend claims is a closet die-hard romantic, but what else can he do in his situation?

Confined to a hospital bed, needles stabbing him up and down the arm daily, and with _shitty_ food…it’s kind of pointless at this point.

Yet he’s still a bit peeved. He’s irritated when he looks down at his arm, shrugging up the ratty old sweater (that he demanded he get from home to wear in this antiseptic hell), to gaze at the black marks that appear boldly on his skin.

It’s a timer. Yahaba’s used to timers. There’s a timer for chemotherapy. There’s a timer for pain meds, sometimes. Hell, there’s even a metaphorical timer for how long he can be on his feet. It’s like the world around him is just covered in ticks and tocks, mocking him and reminding him that time is everywhere, but there’s obviously not enough left for him.

And what’s worse is that all the timers count _down_. Even the one on his arm.

See, fate decided to be a dipshit and gave humanity the ultimate existential crisis. Everyone was in a state of panic and anxiety for various reasons.

If the timer on your skin was black, it counted down to the moment you met your soulmate. Black for soulmate sounded pretty depressing but it balanced out the alarming red that the timer would turn into if it suddenly switched to the hours and seconds that counted down towards your _death_. And the kicker was that your death timer _only_ appeared when you were exactly 72 hours from your dying moment. Three days to tell everyone you love that you loved them, or hop on a plane and have the time of your life before you kick the bucket. Wasn’t life considerate?

So people grew up always aware of their timer, watching carefully for any change. Black meant happiness, red meant death. These were facts that were ingrained into people’s heads the moment they were born.

But _Yahaba’s_ issue was that his timer was doing a tremendous show of flicking back and forth between red and black and had been doing so for the past day.

See, he was fully prepared to accept it when it turned red. He had been in the hospital diagnosed with the devil’s personal hell for so long that his death was inevitable. In fact, he even joked around about it to Watari sometimes, how he’d finally get out of this damn hospital. Not that his best friend enjoyed the death jokes, but…A dying man had to hold onto something, right?

He was only a _little_ sad that he hadn’t met his soulmate during the times he was healthy and out and about. Yahaba tried not to think about it too often, or to even look at his timer while he was in the hospital, but it was something that never really went away. Once you met your soulmate, the timer disappeared completely from your arm, only to reappear those three days before you died, god knew when. Yet Yahaba’s kept ticking, down, down, down, until his anxiety had gotten enough of him and he asked the nurses for concealer to cover it up.

Yet now, he was curious, mainly because of the flicking. He was dying soon, that was for sure. It was something that saddened him, yes, but the only reason he couldn’t focus on it was because despite the red timer appearing every few seconds, the black one insisted on coming back as well. What was more peculiar was that there were only a few hours left on it.

 _Brilliant_ , Yahaba thought, just a bit sourly. _My soulmate is going to meet me on my deathbed. How romantic._

The door to his room creaked open and Yahaba immediately shoved his sleeve down, looking up slowly. It was a nurse, Mineko, and she smiled when she saw that he was awake. Yahaba shifted so that his arm didn’t look suspicious since he hadn’t shown his death timer to any of the nurses and doctors. _Let it come as a surprise to them at least_ , he thought for no reason.

“Hello Yahaba-kun,” she said warmly, coming over and setting down a tray of the only thing Yahaba could stomach from the cafeteria kitchen, a typical sub sandwich and some plain white rice. Two foods that were definitely not compatible, but at least it was something. “How are you feeling today?”

“Better,” he said, unsure whether it was a lie or not. Did he feel better physically? Well, he was dying in two-ish days so technically, no. But he was about to come across his soulmate eventually so mentally…kind of. “Do you guys provide last-meal wishes here?”

Mineko laughed, more used to Yahaba’s dead man humour more than Watari was and shrugged. “If it’s something we can easily get from outside, then absolutely. But I wouldn’t be thinking about that any time soon,” she said comfortingly, patting him on the shoulder. “Doctor says that the chemo you have on Thursday should be one that will create huge progress,” she said encouragingly.

_Thursday. It’s Monday. My timer runs out tomorrow night. How ironic._

“That sounds great,” Yahaba said, although his throat constricted slightly. Even with the excitement of meeting his soulmate, Mineko’s innocent and abashedly hopeful expression was something Yahaba felt bad for leaving. The staff was so kind to him, all the way up until his last moments.

“Mhm,” she said fixing the blankets around Yahaba’s feet before stepping back towards the door. “You eat up and then get some rest, alright? I’ll take you around the courtyard later if you’re up for it.”

Yahaba was going to simply nod and thank her when a question stuttered its way through his lips. “O-Oh, by the way, um,” Mineko looked at him inquiringly. “I might be getting a guest later in like, four-ish hours so…could you help me clean up for them?” He asked, looking a bit sheepish.

Mineko’s face brightened up and Yahaba smiled back faintly in return. “Oh, guests!” She trilled. “That’s wonderful. Someone other than Watari-san, I’m assuming?” Yahaba simply nodded. “I see, well of course. We can find you something nice to wear as well,” she said with a hum, tapping her chin. “I’ll come back in a bit then, and we’ll sort this out together okay?”

The man confined to the bed smiled wider and dipped his head in gratefulness. “Thank you,” he said earnestly.

“Now eat!” Mineko said, before slipping out of the door.

Yahaba turned towards his tray of food, a fluttering sensation in his belly. He wasn’t sure if it was nervousness, excitement, or probably an odd combination resulting in paranoia. Regardless, he knew that his soulmate would be coming in as a guest. How else would they know exactly what room Yahaba was in, anyway?

Giddiness filled his chest as he reached for the sandwich, biting into it slowly. He was going to ask Mineko for shrimp and noodles as his last meal, he decided.

\-----------

“There!” Mineko said, smiling widely as Yahaba tried not to grimace under the getup. He was so used to wearing loose and baggy clothing that being in a shirt, sweater, _and_ bowtie was making him feel constricted. He wanted to look _presentable_ , not like he was going to take his soulmate out on a date that night. Yahaba couldn’t even walk.

But ‘casually spiffy’ was what Mineko wanted, and as Yahaba had learned over the months was that what Mineko wanted, Mineko got.

“You look dashing,” she said in what was almost a squeal and Yahaba lightly touched a finger to the freshly shampooed and dried hair that looked almost exactly like it had in his high school and college days. Poofy and properly styled, it made him feel fresh again. Now if only he had a volleyball in his hand, sneakers on his feet, and no cancer in his lungs, things might be okay.

He adjusted the bowtie once more. “I look…good,” he settled, knowing that he was allowed to feel just a little narcissistic after so long in old, worn out sweaters and pants. “Where’d you even find these anyway? I haven’t worn them in such a long time.”

Mineko smiled and Yahaba noted that there was a tinge of sadness and nostalgia in it. “You wore that the first day you came into the hospital. I thought it would be appropriate if you wore it again on your last day here. But today sounded special so I thought, why not?”

Yahaba’s eyes widened fractionally as his fingers dropped from his hair to his bowtie. He remembered buying it – his freshman year in college with Watari before a social gettogether. “Oh,” he murmured, glancing at the mirror being held up in front of him by the nurse. “Yeah, it’s a good outfit,” he said and Mineko nodded in return.

“So do you know when your guest is supposed to be arriving?” Mineko asked as she busied herself folding Yahaba’s laundry while the man nervously adjusted his tie. “Do you want me to bring them over?”

“No, that’s alright,” he said, shaking his head. He kind of wanted to meet his soulmate alone, to have them both deal with…this _situation_ alone. While Yahaba was more than excited to meet them, he was sure that there’d be quite the reaction once his soulmate learned that Yahaba was not only bedridden but also dying.

He was trying not to think about it.

Mineko nodded. “Alright,” she said, flashing him a smile. “If you two need anything, just call,” she hummed. She wandered to the door, stepping out. “I’ll leave this open a crack so they know you’re in!” She said considerately, before walking away.

The moment the nurse disappeared from sight, Yahaba shoved his sleeve up, staring at the numbers on his arm. 00:00:06:19. six more minutes.

He leaned back into the bed, biting his lower lip. Fingers instinctively traveled to his hair, making sure it was in place. His eyes darted around the room anxiously.

 _I could watch TV,_ he thought, wondering if maybe a casual ‘Oh! Hello,’ was appropriate. He reached towards the side table but instead of grabbing the remote, his hand wrapped around the bottle of cologne that Mineko had pulled out earlier. Yahaba sprayed himself once more, just in case the smell of antiseptic hadn’t yet disappeared.

From the slightly opened door, he could hear slight conversations of various people as they walked by his room. Some were familiar, nurses and doctors that had become well acquainted with him, some not.

“I don’t think that’s sanitary,” came a voice sounding disturbed. “But who am I to stop the front desk I guess.”

“Let the guy be,” said another. “He said the dog’s practically his mom’s second kid.”

The voices faded as they passed and Yahaba wondered if that meant that someone had brought their dog into the hospital. It wasn’t too uncommon for visitors to bring pets in but Yahaba absently wondered why now of all times the hospital employees were talking about pets.

He got his answer when shortly after the voices passed, another one was heard from far down the hall. It was loud, it was high, and it was the _yap yap yap_ of what he could only identify as a dog.

Yahaba felt a smile flicker on his face. He liked dogs to a degree, and hearing one disrupt the ‘peacefulness’ of the hospital amused him. He could hear the frantic ‘S-SIR, SIR-!’ from what was probably security, following the owner of the dog around, no doubt trying to quiet the poor thing. He shifted a little forward, craning his head to try and see if he could catch a peek of the little terror as it passed by his room through the crack in his door.

The yapping got louder and he could tell by the sounds that the owner was also having some sort of struggle trying to contain the animal. A leash sounded like it was jingling when all of a sudden there was a shout, the sound of something skittering across the tile floor, and a sudden rush of little paws hitting the ground.

To Yahaba’s surprise, his door burst open with no figure in the doorway. Only when he dropped his gaze did he see a little corgi practically launch itself on his bed, wiggling in delight with its tail whipping around fast enough to rival a helicopter’s blades.

He stared at the dog in surprise, too speechless to even register what to do. He couldn’t really move his legs and his hands were limp in his lap. All he could do was stutter a breathless ‘Wha-‘ before someone came barreling into the room right after.

“Shit- I’m sorry!” Came a gruff voice and Yahaba’s head jerked up the same moment the corgi yipped in happiness. What he saw astounded him.

A man with hair bleached a colour even lighter than his corgi’s fur was rushing towards them with darkened narrowed eyes that looked more concerned for the dog than Yahaba’s invaded privacy. Two dark stripes wrapped around the sight (terror?) of a hair job and Yahaba could _swear_ that that was eyeliner. Or were those natural lashes? He was in a faded t shirt and jeans, the corgi’s leash hanging limply from his hand and when he stretched his arms out to grab his dog off the bed, Yahaba could see clear, unmarked skin.

_Must be nice, to already know who your soul-_

“WHAT.”

The shout startled Yahaba into choking out a similiarly-toned ‘W-What?!’

His dog all but forgotten on the bed, the stranger was staring down at his forearm with incredulousness in his eyes. Yahaba tried to figure out what was wrong, what happened, when the stranger raised his eyes to stare at him with what seemed like horror, wonder, and definite surprise.

The stranger was speechless, which meant that Yahaba was forced to choke out another ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ He wasn’t inconsiderate. It wasn’t like the dog was inconveniencing him and the stranger obviously looked like he just ran straight into an existential crisis. But when the man’s eyes flickered down onto Yahaba’s arm, he felt something in his chest tighten.

“This,” the odd man blurted out, shoving his arm closer to Yahaba. Instinctively he shied away a little. The stranger jabbed at his forearm. “Is gone. And you- _you?_ What-“

Yahaba tried to get with the plan, he really did, but the guy was spitting words out that made zero sense. He stared in confusion at his hair, his face, his _dog_ , only looking at his arm when it was brought right into his vision.

“I-I’m sorry,” Yahaba stuttered, raising his hand to attempt pushing the arm away. “Is there-“

“You’re my soulmate,” the man finally said, wonder and confusion colouring his voice. Yahaba felt himself freeze. The corgi at his feet barked loud once and Yahaba was suddenly reminded of Watari saying that animals had a natural affinity for finding their owner’s partners. At the time, it was simply something his best friend had read off a random online forum and neither of them believed it.

Frantically, Yahaba lifted his own arm and pulled his sleeve away, staring at his forearm. Red numbers. He waited a few seconds to see if it would flick back to black but nothing. Red numbers.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from in front of him and he looked up to see the stranger staring at his arm with an indescribable expression. His narrowed eyes looked pinched even more and hazel irises seemed glued to the depressing red colour on his skin.

“You’re-“

“You’re him?” Yahaba voiced, cutting the man off before he could finish that sentence. “I-I, I was-“ _waiting for you._ Could he say that? Was that even appropriate in this situation? He expected a guest to come in, both of them meeting eyes for the first time, his soulmate’s filling with tears when they realized that Yahaba was dying and Yahaba trying his best to assure them that at least they were able to meet.

Not this. Not this…random…out of the blue… _surprise_. He wanted to prepare himself, damnit. He didn’t even know what to say anymore.

And by the looks of it, neither did the stranger.

The corgi had made itself comfortable at the foot of Yahaba’s bed, already ready for the long haul as its gaze flickered between its owner and its owner’s partner. Yahaba could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as he stared at what could’ve been his now and forever, if only he wasn’t, you know. _Dying_.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself saying, feeling the breath leave him when the words fell from his lips. That wasn’t what he was planning to say. That wasn’t _at all_ even in the option of things to say when he finally met his soulmate.

The surprise flickering on his soulmate’s face seemed to reflect that he probably didn’t think that that would be the first thing he’d hear either.

“What…what even for? Link just ran into your room and-” The man said and Yahaba wondered why it sounded angry and defensive.

“Link?” Yahaba repeated, sounding amused. They both looked at the dog. “Like, from the video game?”

As if subconsciously, the man reached out to ruffle the dog’s head and Yahaba noted that while his face seemed to be set in a permanent frown, there was a sense of gentleness that softened his face as he gazed at his pet. “Nah, my mom named it. Said that this little guy was what linked her and my dad together.”

Yahaba smiled. “That’s romantic.”

There was a pregnant pause in the room before the stranger turned back to him. “Kyoutani Kentarou. And you don’t have to apologize. We’re sorry for-“

“Don’t,” Yahaba said with a shake of his head, eyes flickering downwards briefly. “I was waiting for you.” He turned his arm over so that the red was hidden by his blankets. “But I don’t think this what you were expecting to see when you finally met your soulmate.” Yahaba breathed long and hard, raising his gaze back up to Kyoutani who was wearing a pinched expression. “I was trying to think of what to say to you, after meeting like this, but honestly I felt like I could use up all three of my days just trying to find the words. So…here I am and I just wanted to say…” His eyes raked over Kyoutani, trying to memorize all of him before it was too late. “It was nice to finally meet you, Kyoutani.”

Silence filled the air.

Yahaba felt a bit awkward after a minute passed by with Kyoutani simply staring at him. Or was he glaring? The dark eyes made it hard to tell.

Finally, Kyoutani shifted, brows furrowing until he was looking at Yahaba between slits for eyes. “Um, before we get to the melodramatics-“ Yahaba felt the heat of the sun fill his face. _M-Melodramatics?!_ “Could I at least get your name?”

If he wasn’t hooked up to a monitor that would alert the nurses immediately if he passed out, Yahaba felt like hiding right then and there. Or maybe if his death timer sped up, that’d be okay too. Anything to run away from the embarrassment of practically spilling out tv-drama worthy lines before even telling his soulmate his _name_.

“Oh, Christ, I’m sorry, shit I’m just-“

“It’s fine,” Kyoutani said and there was just a tinge of amusement in his voice. His expression was still hard but Yahaba could see the mirth in his eyes. “You’re dramatic.”

“I-I! I am _not_ -“

“You’re in a hospital bed, I guess you’re allowed to be dramatic.”

“You can’t just _tell me_ what I’m allowed and not allowed to be-“

“So what’s your name?”

Yahaba huffed, crossing his arms before realizing that pressing against his chest was a bad idea and he settled for placing his hands back into his lap. “Yahaba Shigeru,” he said, looking at the corgi that was trying to nuzzle its nose under Yahaba’s leg under the blanket. “I’ve been here for-“

“I don’t care,” Kyoutani suddenly said and Yahaba jerked his head to look up at him in surprise. The man was walking over to shut the door and drag the visitor chair right up next to the bed where he sat himself down, staring at Yahaba with a gaze so intense that he felt like squirming. “What’s your favourite colour?”

At a complete loss of what to say, Yahaba stared at the strange man that fate deemed as his soulmate. “I- what-“

“Your favourite colour,” Kyoutani repeated.

“T-Turquoise.”

Kyoutani nodded, as if he approved. “Favourite food?”

“Ikura-don.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“March 1st. Why-“

“What are your hobbies?”

Yahaba slapped the railing of the bed lightly, a frown embedded on his face. “Hold on, why are you interrogating me? There’s more important things to talk about than an ‘all about me!’”

Dark eyes stayed unwavering as Kyoutani shook his head just a smidge. “I don’t think so.”

“You… _what?_ ”

The exasperated tone must have done it for Kyoutani because he suddenly sighed and lowered his head. Yahaba was astonished to see the tips of his ears grow just a shade lighter. It would’ve been endearing if Yahaba wasn’t ticked off that Kyoutani kept avoiding the inevitable topic at hand.

“My mom told me that when I met my soulmate, I have to learn their favourites.”

His voice was clipped and short and Yahaba suddenly remembered the conversation that wafted in earlier. Kyoutani’s mother was in the hospital and they were going to visit her. But instead, they were here, as fate dictated. Suddenly, he worried for her health and if Kyoutani should be at _her_ bedside than his at the moment.

“And, like you said, you’re here,” Kyoutani said, gesturing with a calloused hand towards the bed. “So I want to learn them before it’s too late.”

Yahaba’s heart felt like it had just launched itself into his throat. He looked at the rough-hewn man that seemed like he was forged from rocks and iron. The softness that accompanied his voice completely threw Yahaba off. He looked down at his fingers, squeezing his hands together as he tried to think of what to say.

“I know there are things that are probably more important to discuss, but we just met,” Kyoutani said, his words slow and thought out. Yahaba understood how hard it must be to open up to a stranger. “And it should be happy.”

_Should be happy. We should be happy._

“We just met,” Yahaba said with a slightly breathless laugh, tempted to rub his temples. “It’s not like I can learn everything about you, wine and dine you, then get you to fall in love with my amazing personality in two days. Same goes for you, I think.”

Kyoutani was quiet and Yahaba could practically see the gears turning in his head before the man looked up and peered at him with a curious expression. If Yahaba didn’t know better, it would feel like he was glaring daggers into his skull for being so sarcastic, but Yahaba sorely hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Why do you want to talk about you dying?”

Yahaba stared at him. It wasn’t that he _wanted_ to. He just knew that they _had_ to. “Because…because we have to,” he said, voicing his thoughts. “I can’t just know you for two days and then disappear from your life forever.”

“That’s why I’m trying to get to know you.”

“Shouldn’t you be upset-“

“I want to remember your favourite things-“

“You should be _angry_ -“

“And remember what you look like-“

“That I’m fucking _dying on you, Kyoutani!_ ”

Yahaba’s voice had raised and he swore he was close to hysteria when Kyoutani’s hand was on his and was squeezing so hard that on any other day, it would’ve hurt. But now, it was grounding.

Once again, those eyes were boring into his and Yahaba couldn’t help but take deep breaths and try to maintain eye contact.

“I’m not upset and I’m not angry,” he said, voice rough. “I’m sad.” It looked like it took a lot of effort just to admit that one emotion. “But it should-“

“Be happy,” Yahaba finished, sighing and closing his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just…It’s hard, okay? Being in a hospital, thinking you’ll die before you even meet your soulmate…it’s hard. These timers don’t make it easier.”

“When have they ever?” Kyoutani snorted, and Yahaba cracked a smile.

They were silent for a moment, each man looking off in a direction that wasn’t each other. Yahaba’s heart was no longer pounding in his chest but he still felt just a bit anxious. He didn’t know Kyoutani. He wished he had _time_ to get to know him. He wished he had days and weeks and years to learn about him, fall in love with him, fight with him and make up, still together with this man that fate promised would be good for him.

He couldn’t do all of that in two days.

He couldn’t fake being in love nor could he even pretend to _like_ Kyoutani more than an acquaintance right now. Yahaba was sure that the other felt the same way. They were strangers, too far apart in _anything_ right now to even be considered something more. And they would be like that, no matter how hard Kyoutani tried to learn about him or how much time they’d try and spend together these last few days.

“How’s your mother?” He asked Kyoutani quietly, who grunted in surprise at the sudden question, looking at him. “You’re visiting her here, aren’t you?”

Calculating eyes looked at him before nodding, shifting away. “Yeah. She’s sick, but her timer hasn’t appeared yet,” he said with relief in his voice. “Doc says she’ll be alright.”

“That’s good,” Yahaba hummed, eyes looking down to where Kyoutani’s warm and firm hand was still placed on top of his. If only he had more time, maybe their fingers could learn to lace together. Maybe he’d be able to memorize the lines on his palms. If only. “You should probably go visit her.”

Kyoutani raised a brow at him. “And waste time not being here with you?”

Yahaba exhaled. “You don’t even really know me-“

“But I want to,” Kyoutani insisted, and once again Yahaba was slowly learning that whenever the words sounded too low, too harsh, too angry, it was only that Kyoutani did not open up on a regular basis. Yahaba was his exception, and he was obviously making it much harder on the other man. “I want to get to know you.”

“What’s the point?” Yahaba finally said, spilling the doubt that had bothered him since he even got to the hospital. “What’s the point of learning about me when it’ll make it so much harder when I die?”

He chanced a look at Kyoutani and was shocked to see that the man looked absolutely wounded. Even the hand on his was starting to slip away when he quickly shook his head, apologetic. “No, shit, wait. I didn’t mean-“

The hand on his disappeared, leaving it cold, but only to reappear on Yahaba’s cheek.

It was too sweaty, squeezing too hard, pushing him almost a bit too much… But Yahaba stared as he watched Kyoutani _trying_.

“I want to know _you_ ,” the other man practically growled and it sent a shiver up Yahaba’s back at how forceful it was. “My timer ticked for _you_. I waited years for _you_. Don’t give me this bullshit about dying when I’m trying to fucking reach out and all I’m getting in return is ‘Kyoutani I’m dying let me go’ like some sort of dramatic fucker. The only other person this damn whiney is my high school volleyball captain and you know what, he was a shit. So shut up and get to know me like I’m trying to get to know you because I’d rather know _you_ than that piece of shit.”

Yahaba stared as Kyoutani practically spat out the words and he couldn’t stop the rush of emotion that filled his chest. He wanted to cry but he knew that Kyoutani would probably think he was more of a ‘dramatic fucker’ and he wasn’t about that life.

Instead, he raised a hand to cover the one on his cheek. They were trying, he knew. Trying to work around…whatever this was.

“Okay,” he breathed, nodding once. “You’re right. I want to get to know you too,” he said earnestly. “Like, your favourite colour and your favourite food and how long you’ve had Link.” God, he sounded sappy, but time didn’t care. They had two days left to do this and they were going to do it _now_.

A smile breached Kyoutani’s face and Yahaba was surprised to see that despite the intimidating appearance of the other man, he looked genuinely happy. Yahaba couldn’t help but smile back in return.

“My favourite colour is blue.”

“Any particular shade?”

“…Turquoise is nice.”

\-------------

Yahaba stared out his window, watching the cars rush by on the interstate not too far away. Kyoutani and Link had left about an hour ago, leaving Yahaba both angry and content. He was satisfied with what had just happened – happy, even, that Kyoutani was his soulmate. He certainly wasn’t the type that Yahaba would’ve eyed up immediately at the store, but watching and listening to him open up was something magical on its own. Yahaba wanted _more_.

He was angry because of time. He was always angry because of time. He was angry because of his lack of time.

Turning his wheelchair, intent on getting into bed by himself at least one last time, he startled when his door suddenly opened and Mineko stepped in, her ever cheerful expression on her face. “Good afternoon, Yahaba-kun! How was your meeting with your guest? Did he like your outfit?”

Yahaba glanced down, just barely remembering that he was dressed to impress while Kyoutani looked like he could’ve just rolled out of bed. He shrugged, but smiled at her. “I think so. What’s up?”

The nurse hummed, eyes twinkling. “Well, he was a very kind gentleman and extremely generous.”

Yahaba suddenly sat straight up. “K-Kyoutani? What did he do?”

Mineko waved her hands. “You’re going into chemo tomorrow instead of Thursday!” She exclaimed. “Kyoutani-san practically begged to move up your chemo time and even paid to put you on priority list,” she said to the shell-shocked Yahaba. “He’s a very nice man, and with such a cute dog.”

The rest of the procedures and information that Mineko provided fell on deaf ears as Yahaba’s gaze dropped a bit, wide-eyed.

Kyoutani had changed his time for _him_. He made Yahaba get treatment the last possible day before his timer ran out…all of this was for _him_. And they had only known each other for a few hours, max. _Kyoutani was trying to gain back time for them_.

“-haba-kun? Is that okay?”

Yahaba jerked his head up, blinking rapidly. “What?”

Mineko smiled faintly. “Kyoutani-san asked if he could come into chemo with you, as moral support. He said you wouldn’t mind.”

 _Who is he to say what I would and wouldn’t-_ “I don’t mind,” he said automatically, and Mineko nodded. “Brilliant. Now that that’s all sorted out, do you need help getting into bed?”

 

**Epilogue**

“Yahaba-san?”

The doctor’s voice wafted into his ears but Yahaba was too terrified to open his eyes. The chemo hadn’t scared him, it was for other reasons.

“Yahaba-san, the procedure went fine as usual, could you please open your eyes?”

For some reason, that made Yahaba screw his eyes closed tighter. He was utterly exhausted and his body ached, yet he still found the strength to clench his one fist just a bit. Maybe he’ll just have someone else check for him. Maybe he’ll just make Kyoutani do it-

“Shigeru?”

Kyoutani’s voice made his eyes pop open and he swallowed when he saw the worried face of his soulmate in front of him, next to the doctor’s. They were peering at him and Yahaba tried to regulate his breathing.

“Good,” the doctor said, straightening up. “Now let’s get you in a wheelchair and straight to bed. Get some water and go straight to sleep, okay?”

Yahaba nodded once and when the doctor left, Kyoutani immediately filled in the whole space. “Shigeru-“

“Kentarou,” he rasped, “my arm.”

The man bit his lip, worried eyes flicking down towards hospital gown’s long sleeve. “Are you sure?”

Yahaba could only nod in reply.

With gentle fingers, Kyoutani lifted his arm up and Yahaba found himself closing his eyes again. The thin fabric was pushed up and a sharp intake of breath filled Yahaba’s ears. His eyes shot open and he stared at Kyoutani, not daring to look down, waiting for any indication of the result.

When his soulmate looked up at him with amazement, wonder, and admiration in his eyes, Yahaba let out a shaky breath.

“It’s gone,” Kyoutani murmured, lifting his arm higher so that Yahaba could see the plain skin, red numbers vanished.

His cheeks then felt wet and Kyoutani was suddenly so close and when warm lips pressed against his forehead, along with a quiet ‘thank fuck,’ Yahaba couldn’t have been more thankful to have met him.

 

**The End**

           

**Author's Note:**

> <3  
> check out my abundance of tsukiyama fics! and i'll probably write some more kyouhaba!


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